


Crossed Wires

by clotpoleofthelord (plantainleaf)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 18:06:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12216108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantainleaf/pseuds/clotpoleofthelord
Summary: Apparently Rodney McKay has friends now.





	Crossed Wires

**Author's Note:**

> Written (mostly) in 2014. Misplaced and never finished (until now).

Even before his assignment to the SGC, Evan Lorne had served in some strange places. Still, it takes him a few weeks to get acclimated to the fact that some of the men and women he serves with weren’t even born on Earth. He takes the Stargate at face value, somehow; it’s so far beyond belief that it’s almost easy, once he gets over the alien thing. It’s like the first time his mom tried to explain how far away Earth’s moon and sun are. The moon is already far enough that he can’t comprehend the distance–something so much more extreme is just more of the same.

But this is the most incredible place he’s ever served, that’s for sure, and he thanks anyone up there who’s listening for the opportunity every day. 

***

He first learns that serving with scientists is a little different than military folks on P3X-403, when he and SG-11 get reamed out for shifting some artifacts out of the way of the mining operations. And sure, he’d figured they were important, that’s why he’d set them aside carefully, but jeez, so was getting naquadah for the generators and ships and anything else they might need. 

Colonel O’Neill calls him into his office after that and sits him down, and Evan readies himself for another tough talk about the importance of alien stuff, but the Colonel surprises him by asking him what he thinks of the SGC.

“Well, sir,” he replies, a little flummoxed, “It’s the best posting I’ve had, even if I don’t really know what’s going on most of the time.” 

The Colonel smiles at him and Evan can’t help but relax. “I get that,” O’Neill says. “But hey, the scientists are a special kind of people. And they’ll save your life, if you need it. But they’re not military.”

Evan nods, not really sure he gets it, and O’Neill sighs and leans back, folding his hands over his stomach. “You’ll know what I mean sooner or later, Major,” he says, and waves Evan out the door.

***

The first time he sees Rodney McKay, it’s in the mess at the SGC, when the man has spent two days “helping” Major Carter rescue Teal’c. Evan’s spent enough time with the members of SG-1 to have gained a huge amount of respect for both Major Carter and Teal’c, and he’s not feeling exactly charitable to this  _ asshole _ who nearly got Teal’c killed for the sake of expediency. Evan’s no scientist, but even he knows you don’t just give up on a trapped man. And he nearly hauls off and punches him in the face when he makes a snide remark to Major Carter about her feminine figure, but Dr. Jackson catches his arm. “Not worth it,” the man says. “Sam can take care of herself.”

Evan wants to argue, say it’s not  _ about _ Sam, it’s about reinforcing bullshit that’s plagued women in the military for decades, but he holds back and takes a deep breath instead as Carter turns on her heel and leaves McKay standing at a table, staring after her.

He manages to avoid McKay the rest of the day, because if there’s one thing Evan can’t stand, it’s misogynistic assholes. He’s proud to have two retired military moms, one Marine, one Air Force, both with advanced degrees, and he knows women can kick as much (or as little) butt as they want. So Dr. McKay’s kind of on his shit list after that.

He’s almost glad he gets to be the one to send him on his way to Siberia, after the whole thing is over, because while Evan tries to be a good guy, there’s a certain schadenfreude to be enjoyed as the man is shuffled onto a plane. Evan hopes it’s the last time he sees him. 

***

Four years later, he’s asked to join the Atlantis expedition. It’s an honor, sure, one not many guys are getting. There, he’ll be one of the top military officials, reporting to the newly-promoted Lt. Col. Sheppard, leader of the expedition. He’ll get his own team there and everything.

The only catch? The scientific head out there is one Dr. M. Rodney McKay, the SGC’s favorite douchebag.

But really, Evan can’t turn it down. He’ll just avoid him, he reasons with himself. How hard can it be?

It’s O’Neill who makes the offer, officially, and he just says, “It’ll be fun,” and Evan knows he’s going to go, distance and danger and Rodney McKay be damned. He trusts now-General O’Neill to keep things interesting after four years serving under him. 

He flies out on the Daedalus, his first long spaceship flight, and he can’t help but feel a little like Starbuck in Battlestar Galactica, flying out into the unknown, just the thin metal hull of the ship between him and space.  _ This _ is what he imagined, when he wondered about what was out there. The Stargate makes it so easy, just to step from one world to the next, but this? This is actually a  _ spaceship _ , and it’s really making clear just how far he’s going (It also makes him realize he’s not going to get to see the next season of Battlestar for–well, quite a while, and he has a moment of panic, before realizing that that’s a TV show and he’s in  _ space _ ) .

***

Atlantis has a whole different rhythm to it than the SGC. For one thing, it’s a civilian base, and he realizes General O’Neill’s lessons about the care and keeping of scientists are going to serve him well. A civilian base means that everything centers around research, trade and diplomacy, not just for the sake of science, but for their survival. O’Neill had said Atlantis was mostly self-sufficient, but Evan hadn’t realized just what that meant.

His tastebuds take a few weeks to adapt, about as long as the rest of him. The flavors here are different, in every way, nothing anything like what he’s used to in the Milky way. There, even planet to planet, the base flavors are similar. You can find something very much like cinnamon on Chulak, and a pretty close garlic substitute, for example. But no one else seems to notice, or maybe they’re already adapted, because the long-term Atlantis residents all tuck into the weirdly shaped and colored and textured foods just as readily as the SGC folks hit their Salisbury steak and fruit loops.

The first briefing with the military commander is–weird. Sure, Sheppard’s a Lieutenant Colonel, a veteran of multiple wars and who knows how many mission on too many planets to count, but he’s not exactly regulation. The hair, for one–it’s a running joke among the military guys, that it’s a metaphor for his whole attitude. And that’s another thing about the military guys the SGC hires, and especially the ones tapped for Atlantis: they’re all  _ smart. _ Not just street-smart, or well-trained, but actually brilliant. Three weeks in and he hasn’t met a Marine yet who doesn’t have at minimum a B.A., and most of them have at least one advanced degree. And that’s the  _ Marines. _ It’s kind of awesome.

Somehow, through an amazing bit of luck, his group of new arrivals land smack in the middle of one of Atlantis’s rare quiet periods, where no one threatens to blow them up and no Ancient plagues or lab animals or nanites are released into the population. It gives them all a chance to adapt to their new life.

He manages to avoid McKay nearly completely for the first month or so he’s there; they pass once in the hall when he’s trying to find his way back to his quarters (turns out he’s in the wrong tower, the mirror image of the one he lives in, which explains why everything looks slightly wrong). McKay’s got his head buried in a laptop, a tablet tucked under his arm, and Teyla–who had introduced herself to all the new personnel within two days of their arrival and promised to answer any questions they may have about Pegasus–is walking beside him, smiling at him as he complains about something or other. Evan’s struck by the degree of fondness in that smile, and his eyes follow them as they fork off in front of him down a corridor, Teyla nudging his elbow with a gentle hand when he nearly bangs into a wall. But he shakes his head and attributes it to some sort of bizarre coincidence, or maybe just poor taste on Teyla’s part. Some people are just that polite.

But a month in, he wanders into the mess after a kind of rough mission and stops short. It’s late, so there aren’t that many people around, just twenty or so scattered through the tables.

Something odd, though: at a table off to the side, just past the only plant that apparently survived the 10,000 years since the ancients, is McKay, back to Evan, sitting at a very small table with a man that Evan recognizes as his new commander.

Sheppard’s still kind of an enigma to Evan, and to most of the new people. Their briefing session with him was quick and to the point, and he wore BDUs and a black tee shirt and sat on the table at the front of the room, legs swinging. He was informal, funny, and nothing like what Evan expected. He’d given a quick rundown on the basic cultures of Pegasus and an overview of the Wraith, the Genii, and the Ancients. Then he’d leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and said, “We’ve had a couple problems with guys who don’t think people who look different or were raised differently can hack it out here. They were wrong. This is an international base, with people from all over Earth and beyond it. You’re not always going to be right, and that’s not a bad thing.” And he glances to each of the men in the room individually, one after another. “And most of Pegasus is matriarchal, so guys? Keep your sexist crap to yourselves. Pegasus–and more importantly for you, our leadership here, including myself–don’t have time for it.” 

He hands each of them a radio and moves along, leaving them blinking and a little off balance as he shows them its basic functions. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, smiling at them, friendly but with an edge. “We’re pretty much on duty 24/7 here, but it’s worth it.” Then there’d been unscheduled gate activity, and he’d jogged out of the room.

So to see him, leaning casually back in a chair, legs sprawled in front of him, grinning widely at Rodney  _ fucking _ McKay, not a care in the world, is a little–well, it’s a little bit of a shock to Evan.

He gets a bowl of the dark brown stew that’s one of the only things he’s been able to adapt to, so far, and settles a good twenty feet from the two of them. 

The thing is, Evan knows he’s got a weird  _ thing _ about McKay. But he just respects Major Carter so damn much, as a scientist and a soldier, and here’s Col. Sheppard, who’d impressed him so much with his speech about respecting women, sitting down with the guy who’d basically harassed her again and again at her workplace.

He digs in, poking at the mystery meat and the purple chunks of tuber, as Sheppard leans forward and picks something up from the table.  _ Chess, _ he realizes. They’re in the middle of a game of chess, one that’s been going on a while, if the state of the board is any indication.

McKay leans forward too, staring at the piece Sheppard had played, then points a finger at him and glares, saying something Evan can’t quite catch.

Sheppard drawls something back, voice slow and honeyed, and Evan can hear McKay’s answering snort from all the way across the room.

They’re not arguing, or at least Evan doesn’t think so. It reads more like teasing, like two friends hanging out, and it  _ bothers _ him. Because he respects Sheppard! He’s a good commander, from everything he’s heard, and he’s kept this base in good shape for over a year in a strange galaxy with almost no help from Earth.

But McKay’s on his gate team, Evan knows. And that can form a bond for people. Bonds people tightly, if the team’s a good one. And theirs seems like a good one, at least the two of them and Teyla. Poor Lt. Ford, who he’d just met a couple times but seemed like a real good kid, probably wasn’t really on the team anymore.

So maybe that’s it, just the bond of being on a team together. And he can’t discount the power of being on a base with just a couple hundred people for a year, either. Atlantis is about the size of his high school, and he made some interesting social choices then, too.

Colonel Sheppard stands, then, moving one last piece, and Evan hears him clearly as he says, “Check and mate, Rodney.”

“What!” McKay leaps up, staring down at the board. “How do you–what–how do you keep  _ doing  _ that?”

Sheppard grins at him and shrugs. “Guess you’re not the chess master of Atlantis anymore. That’s three in a row.”

McKay sweeps the pieces into a box and folds up the board, stuffing it in as well. “Oh, we are so having a rematch tomorrow. You’re just getting lucky!”

“If only,” Sheppard says, and there’s a definite leer there, and–astonishingly–McKay’s ears go pink at the tips.

He points a finger at Sheppard. “Tomorrow night!” and stalks towards the door, Sheppard following close behind and leaning to say something quiet in his ear.

_ Huh _ , thinks Evan.

***

The chess incident sticks with him, though, and a few weeks later he’s escorting Dr. Zelenka down a hallway that had been, until recently, completely flooded. He approves of this whole no-unaccompanied-scientists thing, especially after spending some time with some of the science staff; they tend to be focused on their work to an extreme degree, which is good for getting science done, but bad for not setting themselves on fire.

Dr. Zelenka is the best of them, though. He’s personable, if a little nervous, and Evan kind of finds him adorable, like a small, anxious bird or something. And he’s always willing to explain what he’s doing, which is more than Evan can say for most of the science staff. Evan also appreciates that Dr. Z actually learned his name, and remembered it, saying hello in the hallways after he’d escorted him on a couple of these sorts of missions through the halls.

Of course, this particular mission doesn’t go quite so well. They’re just reaching the room with the interesting power readings, deep in a discussion of Dr. Z’s racing pigeons, when klaxons start blaring and lights start flashing, and the door they’d just walked through slams shut.

“Oh, this is not good,” says Dr. Zelenka, pulling out a tablet and holding it up towards the door. “Oh, no no no, jsme v nebezpečí, we are in trouble, Major Lorne!”

“What, what?” asks Evan, spinning around and searching for another exit. “Oh, crap.” He taps his radio, staring at the opening that’s just starting spraying a thin jet of water into the room. “This is Major Lorne, please respond.”

“ _ This is Sheppard _ ,” the radio crackles, “ _ What’s up, Major? _ ”

“Well, sir, Dr. Zelenka and I are down under the East Pier and the room we’re in just locked and started flooding.”

“Subsection 19, level B-3,” Dr. Zelenka interjects. “The water is rising, but not quickly. But the door will not open.” He’s moving control crystals around in the opened door panel, but nothing is happening.

“Want me to shoot the door?” asks Evan, only sort of joking, because he’s heard of it working.

Dr. Zelenka smiles faintly. “No, no, we are not that desperate, not yet.” He puts the cover back on the door panel and pulls out the tablet again, typing frantically. “Ah. We are trapped in a, a trap, a booby trap. It seems the Ancient who had this lab did not want his fellow scientists to steal his work.”

Evan glances down at the water. It’s just starting to seep through the leather of his boots now that it’s hitting the top of his feet. “Well. He maybe could have been a little more trusting.” He hisses as water starts soaking through his socks. “Oh, man, that’s cold.” 

“We are four levels down, Major. The water here is approximately 15 degrees Celsius. It is not so cold as it could be.” But he’s shivering a little, hopping from one foot to the other.

“ _ Major? Doctor? _ ” says Sheppard. “ _ We’re outside the door. Sounds like you set off a couple alarms. Rodney’s working on it. _ ”

“Great,” says Evan, and Dr. Zelenka glances at him. 

“You do not think they will succeed?” he asks, and Evan shakes his head.

“No, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Colonel Sheppard’s got a plan.”

Dr. Zelenka’s eyes widen. “Ah. Then it is Dr. McKay you do not trust.” 

Evan doesn’t reply remembering suddenly and uncomfortably that Dr. Z isn’t just some scientist, he’s is actually McKay’s second in command and they probably work together kind of a lot. 

“I can understand that feeling,” says Dr. Zelenka, as soothingly as one can when standing in a foot of freezing water while what sound like power drills start up outside the door. “But Rodney, he is not a bad man. And he is a great scientist, and a genius, though do not tell him I said so.” The drilling noise gets louder, and the klaxons stop suddenly, though the water level is still slowly creeping up. “He will save you many times, and he will grow on you, I promise you this.”

Evan is about to reply, to assure Dr. Zelenka that he trusts in the leadership of Atlantis, and that he  _ knows _ Rodney McKay is a genius, when the trickling sound stops and door bursts open to reveal the man himself. McKay is sweaty and red-faced, triumphant, and Evan only grins a little when his face drops comically quickly and a small wave of water crashes over him and soaks him from the knees down.

Sheppard yanks him backwards as the water spreads out in the hallway, disappearing down nearly-invisible grates against the walls, and pats his shoulder. “Nice job, Rodney,” he says, and McKay grins at him.

“Weapons lab!” he says, gleefully, and pushes past Evan into the room. “Radek, we brought towels. And sandwiches! But I get to see the lab first, since you needed rescuing and all.” 

Dr. Zelenka gives a put-upon sigh, but there’s a smile hovering at the corners of his lips, and okay, Evan can maybe see how, between the rescues and the unapologetic glee, the guy might grow on a person. Not him. But other people.

***

Laura Cadman, unlike Rodney McKay, is easy to like. They’d met on the  _ Daedalus _ , on the trip to Pegasus, and bonded over explosives (her expertise military, his industrial, after all the mining). She’d reminded him of his mother, which was kind of weird, but it was familiar and besides, he needed a friend in Pegasus. They’d been assigned to the same training team, under Sgt. Stackhouse, and they had lunch a couple times a week when their shifts matched up. 

So when she gets beamed up into a Wraith dart that then crash lands, he’s a little freaked. And when only one person comes out, and that person was fucking  _ Rodney McKay, _ man, he’s pissed. Sure, the guy’s a genius, and invaluable to the expedition, but Laura? Laura’s his  _ friend.  _

But Sheppard tells him to get McKay back to Atlantis, so he and Carson drag him upright and start for the gate while Sheppard starts heckling Dr. Z to get Cadman out. When Evan glances back, hoping to see some sign of progress before they dip below the ridge and lose sight of the dart, he catches Sheppard’s eye.

The Colonel is staring after them, eyes on McKay’s limp form, and there’s so much  _ worry _ in his eyes that Evan swallows and turns back around, kind of feeling a like he’s intruding on their friendship. He’s gotten to know Sheppard a little better, having backed him up on a couple missions in the last month, and he and McKay’s friendship remains a mystery to Evan. But there’s no doubt it’s real, and it’s strong, and there’s absolutely no doubt that Sheppard is really goddamn freaked out about  _ his _ friend, just like Evan is about Laura. So he hikes Rodney’s arm higher over his shoulder and speeds up, making his way to the gate.

The week that follows is unbelievably bizarre, to say the least, and honestly, Cadman’s words coming out of McKay’s body (not to mention the totally weird run they went on, sort of, the three of them) is something he’d rather forget.

But after it’s all over and they’re back where they belong, Laura shows up at his door with a tray of berry tart things from the Athosians and plops down on his chair.

“Hey,” he says, blinking at her from where he’s stretched out on his bed with a sketchbook. “Good to see you, well,  _ you _ again.”

She snorts. “Good to  _ be _ me. God, McKay’s a mess.” She shakes her head. “He eats  _ constantly _ , Evan! And he never exercises. I think that run was the first time he’s gotten his heartrate up for something non-life-threatening in  _ years _ .” She smirks. “If I had a team that hot, I would try and stay a little fitter.” 

He sits up and snags a tart, trying not to smear jam on his drawings. “Yeah, well, he’s a dick, so who knows.”

Laura frowns. “You know, I thought so too, when we first got here. I’d heard all about him from the people back at the SGC, but I’m not seeing it.”

“The man creeped on Sam Carter every chance he got, Cadman!” Evan leans forward. “Seriously, he should have been sued for harassment, not given a promotion!”

“I mean, he  _ did _ go to Siberia for a year. And he pretty much knew why he was there.” She shrugs. “He’s not that bad of a guy, Evan. Maybe he’s learned. Matured. Whatever.”

Evan lets out a long sigh and leans his head back, staring at the ceiling above the bed. He trusts Laura with a lot of things. She’s one of his best friends here on Atlantis, one of the people he knows best, and she’s never lied to him. And she’s a female Marine, one with less tolerance than most for male bullshit. 

“He’s just–freaked out, I think,” she says, thoughtful. “He’s had a kind of a rough time, you know.”

He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “That doesn’t excuse him. That doesn’t mean he has a, a license to creep.”

She gives him a look. “Creep license?” Standing, she shoves at him until he scoots over on the narrow bed and then lays down beside him, elbowing him in the side as she moves to tuck her arms behind his head. “People change, Evan. Not often, but they do.” She’s warm along his side, and he sets his sketchbook down beside the bed and rolls up on an elbow to give her his full attention. 

“Even McKay?”

“Even McKay.” she smiles suddenly. “I think he’s just kind of terrified of women. Except Teyla. But you know, I’ve heard all about his weirdness. I actually talked to Major Carter before we left, you know. She has a special briefing for all the military chicks. An informal one, with drinks.” 

Evan tries not to be jealous, because seriously, drinking with Samantha Carter sounds like a pretty awesome night. “And?”

“And I asked her about Dr. McKay. And you know what she said?”

“Hm?”

“She said he’s harmless, and he’s gotten better. And she said if we ever feel threatened by a military guy, he’ll go to bat for us.” She shrugs. “She seemed pretty surprised to be saying it, but that’s what she said.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Really.”

Evan finally gives into his curiosity, because he can’t resist any longer. “Okay, so is it true he has an entire wall of his own accomplishments?”

Laura lets out an honest-to-god giggle. “Man, the guy’s put up a  _ shrine _ to himself. It’s kind of hilarious.” She nudges Evan. “What, you’re not planning on hanging up your degrees? Got any commendations? Pictures with presidents?”

“Well, you’ve got Marine crap all over your quarters,” he fires back, “Your first medal have a spot already picked out?” 

“Hey,” she says primly. “I have plenty of medals. I just can’t talk about them.” 

Evan rolls his eyes. “Oh, sure. That’s what they all say.”

" _ Major Lorne?" _ sounds his radio in his ear. " _ We could use you in the biology labs _ ," says Dr. Parrish, one of the friendlier scientists, and Evan sits up with a groan. 

"Lightswitch duty," he says apologetically, grabbing his thigh holster and buckling it on, and Laura waves him away regally, snagging his copy of  _ Harry Potter _ from his nightstand and flipping through it.

Evan rolls his eyes, waves his door open, and leaves her to it.

***

Nothing stays quiet for long in Atlantis, and it’s just a couple weeks later that he steps into a transporter, hits the central tower station, and rematerializes in a dark transporter that he’s definitely not alone in. 

With a sinking feeling, he squints in the darkness, just as a familiar voice says, “Oh, this is just  _ great. _ ”

Stuck in a transporter with Rodney McKay. Evan wonders what ascended being he pissed off to deserve this.

McKay is breathing a little hard, and his hand flails out and nearly smacks Evan across the face. He ducks back, as far as he can in the small space, anyway, and hisses, “Cool it, Dr. McKay!”

There’s a pause, then McKay ventures warily, “Major Lorne?”

“Yeah,” he replies, turning to push at the doors with his fingers and with his mind. Neither does a thing, and he reaches down to his belt to find his flashlight. “What happened?”

McKay is still breathing a little hard. “I don’t know, something obviously went wrong, probably something to do with the upgrades Kavanagh isn’t supposed to start unsupervised,” he says, “And now I’m trapped in a transporter, oh god, and we’re going to run out of air–”

Evan reaches out and grabs him by the shoulders, because yeah, he’s stuck in here with McKay, but if the guy vomits from a claustrophobic anxiety attack it’s going to be much, much worse.

“Hey, hey, chill, Doc,” he says, trying to use a soothing tone. And yeah, he’s not a fan of McKay, but he’s been in his shoes, so he can sympathize. Digging in his pockets, he finds a paper bag full of cough drops, empties it into his vest pocket, and shakes it out, handing it to McKay. “Here. Deep breaths.” 

“What–why do you have–” 

Evan shoves it over McKay’s face, and he takes it, breathing into it. The rhythmic crinkles of his breaths into it slow after a few seconds, and he takes one long, shuddery breath. “Thanks,” he says, and takes another breath, then taps his radio. “Hey Sheppard?”

There’s a silence as no one responds.

“Elizabeth?” he tries. “Radek?”

Evan taps his own radio with a sinking feeling, but it’s ominously silent on every channel. “Looks like we’re in some sort of radio blackout, too,” he says.

“Oh, you think?” McKay replies, his tone regaining some of its usual bite. He hands the bag back to Evan. “Your bag smells like menthol, by the way. God, this is the  _ worst day _ ,” he says, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

Evan manages to hold his tongue for a couple of moments, but when McKay doesn’t elaborate, he can’t help a long, “The worst day? Really?”

“First Simpson dropped the thing that was probably a larger version of the personal shield. Then the mess ran out of blue jello. Then the coffee was _decaf_ , and Teyla said we’re sparring every _day_ , and now this, which is almost certainly not just a simple blackout, but a symptom of some other, larger issue that I, of course, am going to have to fix. So yes, Major, it has been a terrible day. I’m sure it doesn’t compare to your routine of grunting and following orders, but–”

“Worst day? Worse than the Wraith attacking? Worse than getting sent to Siberia?” Evan knows he’s being a little mean, but come on, McKay is an  _ ass. _

McKay seems a little stunned. “I–well, that was hyperbole, obviously, but–” even in the dim light of the flashlight reflecting off the walls, Evan can see McKay’s eyes narrowing. “ _ That’s _ where I’ve seen you before!”

Evan blinks at him.

“You! You were the guy, the one who loaded me on the plane to Russia! I knew you looked familiar, I just couldn’t place why! You weren’t exactly the SGC’s most hospitable soldier about it, either!”

Evan bites his tongue, but McKay sees the expression on his face now that their eyes are adjusting a little.

“What?  _ What _ ?” says McKay.

“Wasn’t exactly your finest moment, either,” says Evan, remembering a scrawnier, thicker-haired Rodney McKay throwing a tantrum on the tarmac.

“Well–” McKay hesitates. “Okay, yes. It wasn’t, particularly.” Evan hears a  _ thunk _ as McKay drops his head back against the wall. “God, that sucked.”

“Yeah?” Evan is a little curious, but also a little weirded out by the little swirl of vindication in his belly at the idea that McKay got punished for his behavior. “Well.”

“Well, what?”

“Nothing.” But he feels a little bad for his response, so he digs in another pocket and pulls out a powerbar. “Want to split it?” he asks, tearing it open and offering it to McKay.

McKay glances from it to him, then back again. “Sure. Uh, thanks.”

There’s an awkward pause as he shoves it into his mouth, and then a loud  _ crack _ and a popping noise, and then McKay leaps up, shoving Evan back against the wall. 

“Watch it!” he says, pushing him into a corner and fumbling in his pockets. Evan peers over McKay’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

McKay shakes his head, pulling out a penlight and shining it on the wall, then tugging a panel open. “Oh, this isn’t good.” There’s a crackle, a sharp pop, and McKay leaps backwards, moving faster than Evan has ever seen him move. He collides with Evan’s front, knocking them both to the floor.

“What the hell was that?” Evan pushed himself to his feet, helping McKay up with a hand under his elbow, awkward in the small space. 

McKay is reaching into his back and pulling out a tablet, flashlight between his teeth as he types one-handed. “Busy, Major,” he says around the metal. “Just saving our lives-- _ aah!” _ sparks arc from the panel as McKay yelps. “This is not good.”

“What? McKay, tell me what the hell is going on, or I swear--”

“It’s the rematerialization circuit.” McKay poked tentatively at the panel, hissing when another spark flared. “If you don’t let me work, Major, we’re going to be stuck in here a long time. Possibly dead. So maybe shut up.”

Evan raised his hands in mock surrender and shut up.

McKay worked fast. He’d noticed that before, but what he hadn’t noticed--what he’d probably never been close enough to notice--was that when he was working, McKay lost the frantic edge of fear that colored the rest of their professional interactions. He was still sweating and muttering angrily under his breath, but his hands were steady, moving precisely against wires and crystals.

Of course, that was before something in the wall chimed menacingly and a set of Ancient numbers flashed on the screen, getting (if Evan’s rudimentary Ancient lessons were serving him) progressively and alarmingly smaller with each flash.

“What’s that?” 

McKay’s head flew up. “Oh, no, no no. Don’t do this.” His hands moved faster.

“Can I do something?” Evan’s pulse was speeding now, heart thumping in his chest. On his list of prefered ways to die, in a supply closet with Rodney McKay was not at the top of his list.

McKay rounded on him, brows down, eyebrows drawn together, then froze. “You have the gene.”

“Yes?”

“You could be useful for this.” He grabbed Evan’s hand in his slightly sweaty one. “Touch this.” He smacked his palm onto the wall above the open panel. “Now think about Atlantis, about its layout.”

“Buy me dinner first,” muttered Evan, but he closed his eyes and obliged. “Ah!” A sharp pain shot through his head, stabbing through his eye socket down the the back of his neck. He yanked his hand back. “What was that?”

“Not good.” McKay leaned in towards the panel. “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Seriously, Doctor, you’re going to need to start telling me what’s going on.” Evan’s head throbbed and his patience was fading fast. 

McKay turned, crossing his arms. “We’re stuck.”

“Yes, I realize we’re stuck. That’s the problem.”

“No, we’re stuck between stops. This--” he waved at the small closet around them, “--this isn’t even on a map. This is more like a transfer station. We’re not even supposed to be able to materialize here.”

“Where is here?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Evan turned towards the door and tried to get his fingers in the crack to pry it open.

“Not gonna work.” McKay had already turned away and was pulling a panel from the wall. “Something’s gone wrong. There’s nothing useful through that door.”

“How do you know, if you don’t know where we are?”

“I don’t question your grunting and touching things. Let me handle the science.” He dug in his bag and pulled out a stylus, using it to poke at the exposed wiring. “Here’s the problem.” 

“Can you fix it?”

McKay was quiet for longer than Evan was really comfortable with, given the situation. But then he poked a crystal that made three others light up, and he crowed with delight. “Of course I can,” he said. 

“Can you get us out of here?”

McKay shooed him back. Evan went, pressing himself against the wall as McKay took a wire delicately in one hand and braced the other against the wall.

“If this works, we’ll both rematerialize somewhere on Atlantis,” said McKay. 

“If it doesn’t?”

McKay snorted. “If it doesn’t,  _ you’ll _ appear somewhere on Atlantis, and I will be a charred pile of ashes on the floor in here.” He glanced up from his work. “Unless you think you can successfully operate a broken transporter from inside it?”

Evan had to admit he couldn’t. 

“Just a little more--” McKay shoved a crystal into a spot that didn’t look quite big enough with a horrible screeching sound. The sparking intensified, and the wall behind Even started to heat up, and fast. He stepped forward, inches from McKay, who was frowning and stripping the end of a wire.

“Hey McKay?”

“Busy?”

“McKay?”

“Give me a--oh my god!” McKay’s eyes went wide and Evan turned to see what he was staring at, catching a glimpse of flames licking at the wall before everything went bright white, then dark.

***

Evan opened his eyes to the gentle beeping chorus of the infirmary. His body was stiff and sore, but it was the kind of stiff and sore that you got from being unconscious a while, not the injury kind. Snores rang from beside him, and he looked over to see McKay spreadeagled over the bed beside his. In the chair beside it, boots up on the sheets, sat Colonel Sheppard.

Sheppard raised a hand in a wave when Evan turned his head to look at him. “Welcome back,” he said.

Evan cleared his throat. “McKay okay?”

“Yep.” Sheppard grinned suddenly. “You guys were trapped for a while, huh? Glad you didn’t kill him. We kinda need him.”

“I figured,” said Evan, pushing himself carefully upright. “And he got us out of there just in time. So he got a pass on the killing.”

Sheppard grinned and pushed himself out of the chair. “Glad to hear it. Let me go tell Carson you’re up.”

***

It’s amazing how often things go wrong on missions. A couple of the scientists did an analysis, just for kicks, and an astonishing 28% of missions result in the capture, injury, or death of at least one team member. 

So the odds are kind of stacked any time they cross the event horizon, and this mission, Evan thinks as he runs for cover, isn’t going the way he’d hoped. He’s still sore from the transporter incident, and he’s not thrilled his easy mission is turning out this rough.

His team is running backup for Sheppard’s today, Cadman and Evan as military support, Parrish doing something sciency, and Marta making nice with the locals as Teyla’s escort. They were heading back to the gate just fifteen minutes ago, relaxed after a good negotiation and looking forward to getting home, when there was a  _ bang _ up ahead and Laura shoved Parrish and Marta down, then raised her P90.  

The mission started off simple. It’s a farming planet, agricultural and peaceful, except apparently (and you’d think they’d have learned their lesson about making assumptions about planets like this from the Genii) there’s a second group on the planet who live in the trees and hold violently anarchic and xenophobic beliefs about government.

He’s about to ask her for her read on the situation when a man swings down on a honest-to-god Tarzan vine and grabs Teyla around the waist, yanking her up into the trees. A second swings across and Evan fires on him, but he’s moving too fast through the air and then gets too close to Evan’s people to risk it. Ronon grabs for him, nearly knocking him down, but he recovers and scrambles straight up the vine. Now they’re coming from all over, and Sheppard yells “Everybody out!” and they sprint for the treeline.

They cross into the wide field surrounding the stargate and turn, weapons raised, but no one follows them out. Evan turns to take stock when–

“Sheppard!” yells McKay, starting forward, and Ronon grabs his arm. “Ronon, let me go, they got Sheppard, and Teyla, we have to–” 

“We have to make a plan,” says Ronon, and Evan can hear in his voice that he’s just barely staying put. “Sheppard wouldn’t want us to rush in.”

“We don’t _know_ what Sheppard wants, because the _tree people have him!_ ” yells McKay, still struggling.

Evan steps up and says, “Ronon’s right. Let’s just take stock of our situation, okay?”

McKay takes a deep breath, then lets it out, and Evan is kind of amazed to see how his eyes flick back to the treeline, almost  _ yearning _ , as if he desperately wants to charge straight into the forest and demand his teammates back. He pretty much knows McKay’s not a coward, not the kind he sort of pretends to be, anyway, but to see the evidence this obviously kind of doesn’t match his image of the man. 

“Okay. So they didn’t seem too advanced–it looks like their main form of defense is their speed. Ronon, Doctor? You feel like building a Tarzan trap?”

McKay turns to him and gives him a slow smile that’s more Ronon than he’s used to seeing on McKay. “Yes. Yes, I think that sounds like a great idea.”

So with the help of a net Ronon pulled from somewhere, a series of very flexible branches, and one chocolate power bar McKay had given up with barely any whining, they catch one of the little, freakishly strong men. Ronon drags him from his vine and tosses him over a shoulder, then carries him out into the sunlight, throws him down onto the ground and looms over him.

It turns out they don’t like strangers, and they don’t like the other society making decisions for the whole planet, and they believe there’s some sort of curse on the stargate. They’d identified Sheppard and Teyla as the leaders of the group (which makes McKay get red in the face and splutter until Ronon glares at him).

It also turns out, after some more intimidating looming from Ronon and some surprising threats to the local plantlife from Parrish, that the trees have tunnels inside them leading up to their dwellings.

Evan feels a little like Luke Skywalker, climbing up into the canopy after some weird little aliens with Ronon, Cadman, Marta, and McKay, and he tries not to think about just how weird his life has become.

The tree-people are taken by surprise–they’re not used to people getting them on their own turf, and they find the holding cell (well, holding-tree-fort) easily once they hear Sheppard’s banging on the floor. But the tree people are sneaky and fast, and one of them nearly knocks Cadman off the bridge between treetops before Marta thwaps him with a bantos rod and knocks him down a level onto another catwalk. But they’re swarmed once they get to their captured teammates–Ronon grabs Teyla and tosses her bodily over his shoulder while McKay attacks the ropes holding Sheppard’s arms together, but he’s not fast enough. A thick log swings down–some kind of booby trap–and catches Sheppard in the temple, knocking him out. Then McKay’s shoved backwards and he yells out, grabbing for Sheppard, but he’s not quick enough and Sheppard’s limp form disappears up further into the trees, carried between two nimble aliens.

More are descending, now, and it’s too many for even their weapons, and they’re forced back down to the ground by wave after wave of men and women with sticks and crude axes.

Back in the field in front of the gate, McKay and Ronon give each other a glance that communicates paragraphs in a single moment. “Major,” says McKay, and Evan has to fight not to salute at the commanding tone in his voice, “Take everyone back through the gate and get Teyla to Carson. Ronon and I are going back for Sheppard.”

Evan wants to argue, but honestly, he knows better. Protocol says they all should retreat to Atlantis and check in, but if it were a member of his team out there, he knows he would do the same thing. And if anyone can rescue Sheppard, it’s these two. 

So he nods, turns, and dials the gate, but before stepping through he stops and looks back at McKay. “Good luck,” he offers, and Ronon gives him a kind of terrifying smile.

McKay’s eyes flick to him and hold for a second, then he nods. “Thanks.”

***

It’s a tense hour, waiting in the gateroom–Elizabeth decides that’s how long she’ll give them before sending another team in, Rodney’s plan be damned. They’re counting down the final minutes with no word when the gate wooshes to life, and Evan can almost feel the collective sigh of relief that starts at Elizabeth and Teyla and works its way down through the ranks. Sheppard’s team is a cornerstone of the base, despite McKay’s personality, and having three of them in danger stresses everyone out.

Three figures hobble through, huddled together, and Evan steps forward in case someone needs a hand. He’s thinking it’ll probably be Sheppard, who’s draped between Ronon and McKay and doesn’t look great. His head is lolling on his neck, dropping against McKay’s shoulder, and he’s less walking  and more being dragged across the floor. McKay and Ronon slide to the ground, gently lowering him, as Elizabeth calls for the medical team they’ve put on standby.

McKay’s sitting on the gateroom floor, legs folded awkwardly beneath him, and there’s a wicked looking slice across his bicep that’s dripping a slow stream of blood on the tiles. But he’s ignoring that completely, cradling Sheppard’s head in his lap between gentle hands as Ronon beckons Carson forward.

As the medical team lifts Sheppard up onto the gurney, his eyes flutter open a moment and fix on McKay’s. He frowns and reaches out, hand fluttering at McKay’s injury, then he passes back out. McKay and Ronon both hurry after the gurney. Teyla meets them at the door, pale but on her feet, and presses her forehead to Ronon’s quickly and slides an arm around Rodney. He sags against her briefly, curling into her, and she whispers something in his ear before they disappear down the corridor.

***

Evan thought that he’d be able to head straight to bed early after the excitement, but somehow he’s just not able to unwind enough. Instead, he sits down on his balcony, the best part of his quarters, and gazes out at the ocean that’s just barely lit by the last of the sunset. 

It’s a beautiful place, and not for the first time, he wishes he’d brought paints and canvases along. He wonders if maybe he can trade for some–there have got to be artists in Pegasus, and the materials can’t be all that different. Even if they are, it might be fun, learning a new method. He resolves to ask Marta next time he sees her.

There are voices drifting up from a balcony below, and he glances out over the edge and down. It’s two figures, barely lit from behind, standing shoulder to shoulder against the railing.

Sheppard, he realizes, and McKay. They must have released Sheppard earlier than expected from the infirmary–or, he thinks, looking more closely at the way he’s pale and sagging against the rail, he’s just escaped without permission, which isn’t exactly unheard of.

The wind shifts, pulling their voices up to him more clearly.

“You have to stop doing this,” says McKay, voice frustrated. “I can’t–you and Teyla, we had no idea what happened, where you were. I–Atlantis needs you safe.”

“It’s my job, Rodney,” says Sheppard, sounding exhausted. 

“What, getting captured?”

Sheppard laughs a little. “Well, sometimes, yeah. I’d rather it be me than you.”

“How about neither?”

Sheppard shrugs. “Sounds good to me.”

They’re so close that it only takes a slight movement for McKay’s arm to slide up around Sheppard’s waist and tighten. “Yeah.”

And that’s it, Evan is officially intruding on a moment that’s way more private than he’d thought, because Sheppard turns and sags a little against McKay, burying his face in McKay’s shoulder.

Evan pulls back, feeling a little like a voyeur.

His brain takes a moment to reevaluate, because of all the revelations he could imagine having tonight, the fact that the military and scientific leaders of the expedition were a lot more intimate than anyone thought was not one of them.

But they look–well, they look content, is the only word he can think of. They look like they’ve got something together, something they need, something that brings them peace. And if Sheppard’s peace is with Rodney McKay, terror of two galaxies, well, then–

Then maybe Laura’s right. Maybe people can change after all. Maybe even asshole supreme Rodney McKay can get his act together and become a good man.

And maybe Evan’s been a little stuck on the McKay of half a decade and an entire intergalactic void ago. Because that McKay didn’t have  _ friends _ . He barely had colleagues. But this one? He has Teyla and Ronon, Radek and Laura, Elizabeth and Carson and even Colonel Sheppard who sing his praises.

The McKay he’s known the past year has earned his fellow expedition members’ trust. He’s saved their lives, he’s kept them safe, he’s apparently kept Sheppard grounded, and he’s not that guy anymore.

Maybe he just took a while to grow up. Maybe he just needed to find somewhere that’s home. 

And that? That’s something Evan can understand. Because he never felt quite comfortable at the SGC, either, even though he loved his job and respected his team. But on Atlantis he’s building something, he’s part of something. They all are–Americans, Canadians, and Czechs, Athosians, Satedans, and refugees from a dozen other worlds. They’re becoming something bigger, a new society, one where everyone can be who they want to be _. _ Atlantis is changing each of them, because it strips away everything extraneous, everything they don’t need to survive, and leaves the best of them out in the open to flourish. Some of them don’t make it--Kavanaugh’s a good example of someone who, when the pedal hit the metal, didn’t have enough under his veneer of competence to make become who he needed to be out here. Five years ago, he wouldn’t have thought Rodney McKay would, either. But underneath that asshole, after years of consequences for his actions and of saving lives and risking his own, there was a good man. Somewhere.

  
  



End file.
